


On the Merits of Armani and Other Fine Menswear

by hereforthefic_onlythefic



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, And the merits of excellent tailoring, Author Plays Fast and Loose with the Realities of Corporate America, Blowjobs, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Suits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:54:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28232019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hereforthefic_onlythefic/pseuds/hereforthefic_onlythefic
Summary: Zuko isso fucking overthis suit, and everything it represents.Sokka....is into it.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 246





	On the Merits of Armani and Other Fine Menswear

**Author's Note:**

> Hi folks, this idea was posted in a Discord server and hit me like a freight train at 1 in the morning. I haven't written anything even remotely creative in over a decade, and I haven't written fanfic _ever,_ so apologies in advance if it's odd, out of character, or just otherwise abysmal. I figured I'd throw it out there for posterity because why not.

Zuko is so fucking over this suit, and everything it represents.

He hates presenting in front of the board of directors. Sure, being involved in the family business is an infinitely better experience since Ozai got put away for fraud. Azula and Uncle Iroh, after some substantial….growing pains, are finally seeing eye-to-eye and taking Sozin Pharmaceuticals in a direction that he could be proud to contribute towards. Although on his bad days he didn't really give a shit what the company was doing, it really is nice to think they might leave a family legacy better than _unmitigated evil_. Mostly, he's just grateful he got to hand the reins over to his uncle and sister, cast off the crushing dread and self loathing that had been his constant companions when he was supposed to be the next in line for CEO, and focus on his true passion for writing.

But he promised Katara that he would help pitch her proposal for an investment in the new medical device her company is working on, one that has the potential to revolutionize cancer treatment. Objectively, he knows this is the best chance they will get to further her research and still have a guarantee that the results won't end up locked behind one million patents and a hideous price tag, inaccessible to all but the wealthiest patients. No other company would even consider the terms Katara and her team wanted, because the profit margin would be too slim, and they need serious financial backing to make a legitimate push for approval by the different regulatory agencies. Zuko knew this was important, and he’s proud to play a role, especially if it means one more small step towards reparations for all the evil bullshit his father did. Even if he would rather do literally anything other than present to the fucking board.

By all accounts, the pitch had gone swimmingly. Azula snarked just enough to avoid the appearance of favoritism, while the rest of the board seemed intrigued. Iroh distributed a custom tea blend designed to “sharpen the mind.” Katara blew them all away with her answers to their questions. June and Mai had death-glared anyone on the fence into submission, and Kuei, who he expected to be more of an issue, was surprisingly enthusiastic. The squeal Katara had let out once they left the meeting, and Azula's quiet "I'm proud of you, Zuzu," almost made it worth it.

Almost. 

But he'd spent weeks preparing this goddamn speech. Despite years of therapy, he still felt the suffocating claws of anxiety clutch his throat at the thought of public speaking. Truthfully, he is a bit clueless on matters of medicine even after years as his father's heir apparent, and had been petrified that he would misrepresent the topic or otherwise fuck it all up. All of the breathing exercises in the world couldn't make the elevator ride to the 17th floor feel less like a trip to the executioner, or this fucking Armani suit less like a straitjacket.

Okay, yeah, maybe he should take Sokka's advice and get back on a regular therapy schedule; it _had_ been awhile since he's spoken regularly with Jin. She'll be incredibly understanding, as always, and help him navigate his _ongoing journey through life post-trauma._ Whatever. Sokka will be so smug about it, in his own loving way. 

On the topic of his boyfriend, the worst crime of today was that Zuko had to get dressed and leave before Sokka had even woken up. His illustrious, brilliant, beautiful engineer of a boyfriend kept a….unique schedule at times, and he'd been up late working on some dataset or another for a pet project of his. Zuko loved Sokka's passion for his work, and thoroughly enjoyed basking in his lilting voice when Sokka got to talking about a project even when it soared clean over his head like Sokka's beloved boomerang. However, this meant that Sokka could be a bit of a zombie in the morning, and getting him up before 10am after a late night of project work was a formidable task.

On a typical day, it wouldn't matter. Zuko would wake up around 8am, cuddle with Sokka for a bit, then traipse out into the kitchen to make coffee and breakfast before settling in to his home office to work. Sokka would eventually trundle past the door, sleep-worn and a bit bleary, in search of caffeine. Coffee acquired, he'd reappear in the doorway, all soft smiles and sleepy eyes, murmuring a husky "Morning, baby." Depending on how engrossed Zuko is in his writing, they'll either chat and discuss their days, or Zuko will throw Sokka a distracted smile and a "Good morning, love," before returning to his work. It's all very warm, and domestic, and Zuko loves it.

So having to be out of the house by 7:30am to prepare for an anxiety-inducing meeting at 10:30am that won't be over until 12:30pm? Leaving the house with a brief peck and a sleepy "Good luck, sweetheart, you're gonna be 'mazing," sweet though it may be?

Not particularly conducive to their morning routine, which means not particularly conducive to a cheery Zuko.

It may be irrational, but Zuko blames it on the stupid, obscenely expensive, impeccably tailored, stunningly crafted suit. 

After years of being paraded around in exquisite clothes that felt increasingly like silk and linen shackles, Zuko's managed to avoid wearing anything truly _formal_ at all costs since he yeeted his primary responsibilities to the company out the window with Ozai four years ago. His logic is that there is literally nothing worth attending that he can't attend in a nice dress shirt, slacks, and dress shoes. Zuko knows how to dress, and how to dress nicely, but he just doesn't care anymore. Despite hanging on to the more tolerable of his suits, they have nevertheless been relegated to the back of their shared closet, alongside unfortunate sweaters gifted by some of Uncle's….ladyfriends, Sokka's old college tees that he _just can't throw away, Zuko, those holes have memories_ , and gag gifts from the gang.

He is willing to dress up for his loved ones, if needed. Zuko had initially worked himself into a frenzy the first year he was invited to a rare work function for Sokka's job, laying out different suits and begging Katara and Azula for advice. All of this turned out to be for naught, however, when Sokka waltzed in wearing a Hawaiian shirt and khakis. Bewildered, Zuko gestured frantically to his options and bellowed "How do I coordinate with _that?_ What the fuck is the _dress code?"_

"Babe," Sokka soothed. "We're an engineering firm that lacks any formal structure beyond 'work mostly from home until you need the lab, get your shit done, and keep explosions to a minimum.' Mechanist, Inc. is about as informal as it gets. This is an internal party to celebrate our progress on the deep-sea submarine project. The bossman told us all to wear something we can _get jiggy with it_ in, even though I don't think he knows what that means. Teo wants the team to wear Hawaiian shirts. It's some sort of competition with Haru. I promise, you don't need to bust out something suitable for a meeting with Agni himself. Wear something comfy."

After a silent, aghast moment, Zuko swept the suits to the floor in a fit of exasperation. He wore a nice turtleneck and slacks to the party. He was overdressed, but it was the first workplace event he ever attended and _enjoyed._

Thus, between his boyfriend's bizarrely chill work environment, the fact that Zuko's work now consists primarily of typing broodily for hours on end since he rejected the office life, and their social circle's general disdain for any of the trappings of high society, Zuko's suits have languished, unworn and unloved, in the closet. He doesn't miss them.

But he needed to make the best possible impression today, for Katara. He had made a promise; his _honor_ was on the line. Zuko was not going to let his hangups about business formal attire be the reason that the general population doesn't benefit from access to a potentially life-saving cancer treatment that was developed by his boyfriend's incredible, intelligent, and _fucking terrifying when she's angry_ sister.

Zuko grabbed a few different options and brought them to the office for their morning meeting, consulting with Katara, Mai, and Ty Lee about which to wear. After much fussing, they settled on a simple Armani number with a subtle red pinstripe and a tie in a matching shade of red. Zuko knew he looked good in this one; the tailoring was exceptional and the simple cut flattered without being distracting. He wasn't sure he bought Ty Lee's claim that the red tie projected a "sense of power, Zuzu, they can't possibly deny you!" but he was willing to take all the help he could get. 

It worked, and the board liked it, and Katara was thrilled, and Zuko was happy. But he was also _really fucking over the suit, okay?_

Zuko loosens his tie as he climbs the steps to their shared apartment, pausing to unlock the front door. It's a little past 2 in the afternoon. He spent most of the drive home riding the high of _actually getting the board's approval, holy shit_ but now he just wants out of these damn clothes. He's ready for a drink, a nap, and hopefully some Sokka snuggles if his boyfriend isn't too busy. He knows Sokka had a work call until 2:00, but isn't sure if it ran late or not. Sometimes their team calls end after 20 minutes because they're a group of brilliant engineers, and other times they go an hour over schedule because they're a group of brilliant engineers with ADHD.

Sokka's voice reaches him as he toes off his shoes in the front hallway. Zuko quietly closes the door and walks into the dining room, where he hears Sokka regaling the team with his thoughts on…...air balloons? Huh. 

Zuko is unbuttoning his suit jacket when he enters Sokka's line of sight. It takes him a moment to register that Sokka's stopped mid-sentence. Glancing up with a soft smile and a question in the tilt of his brow, Zuko is surprised to find Sokka staring at him openly, lips parted, right hand midair in some emphatic gesture, seemingly lost for words. His cheeks are slowly darkening in a...blush? Zuko pauses with the last button and murmurs, "Sokka? You okay, dear?"

"Um," comes Sokka's eloquent reply. 

"Earth to Sokka….?"

Sokka shakes his head, drops his hand, and glances down at his laptop screen before pinning Zuko with his gaze again. Zuko had started to shrug off his coat, but Sokka interrupts him with a flailed hand gesture that asks him to wait a moment.

Pulling composure from midair, Sokka scrambles out, "Oh shit, sorry guys!" His voice is an octave deeper for some reason, and he sounds a bit hoarse. Zuko wonders if a cold can hit that quickly? He doesn't think so….

"I just got an, um, urgent call. Yeah. Very urgent. Super important. Requires my immediate attention. Teo, I think you have the right idea; can you flesh out your plan a little more and have it ready to discuss further on Monday? And Haru, I'll have my new dataset to you by COB on Friday. Sound good? Great. Thanks everyone. Have an awesome weekend."

Sokka closes the laptop, yanks off his headset, and _stares_. Zuko wilts a bit under his scrutiny. 

"Did I miss something? Nobody mentioned anything, does the suit look stupid? I mean, it was obscenely expensive, but that doesn't always mean anything, and I haven't worn it in _years,_ I thought I looked okay, oh _god did I look bad why didn't the girls say any--_ "

"Zuko, baby, shut the fuck up."

Zuko clacks his jaw shut.

"Here's what I'd like to happen, sweetheart. Let me know if you're too tired. But I am, like, _very invested_ in what I am about to say next.

"I am going to suck your cock right here in this dining room while you are wearing…. _that_ , and then you are going to take me back to our bedroom and fuck me until I can't walk tomorrow. Sound like a plan, babe?"

Zuko reels for a moment, blinking as he processes Sokka’s words. A bolt of heat pools around the bottom of his spine. Sokka’s looking at him intently, all flushed cheeks and bright eyes and intense stare, running his eyes up and down Zuko's body like he wants to _devour_ him. He sucks in a sharp breath and feels his dick stirring in his pants. Sokka hasn't even gotten out of the chair.

"Uh. Huh. Why? I mean. Yes! Please do that. Sounds great. I am super down for that. I'm just...confused. Very interested! But also….confused."

Sokka huffs out a laugh. " _Baby._ You look like sex incarnate. How have I been dating you for _three fucking years_ and never seen you in something like that? Frankly, this is a war crime. You've been depriving me of my sexy, sexy boyfriend in sexy, sexy suits."

Sokka is up out of the chair and walking slowly towards Zuko, eyes raking over him with an awestruck expression. Zuko doesn't think he could move if he wanted to. He's pretty sure roots have grown out of his socks into the floor.

"I can't believe you went outside looking like that. Holy shit. Holy _shit._ You would look incredible in a plastic bag, baby, but this is just obscenely unfair. I want to take you apart. I want you to take me apart. Fuck." 

That noise Zuko just heard might have been a whine. He's pretty sure it came from his own throat. Oh well. He's (mostly) given up on worrying about seeming too easy for Sokka. Sokka figured out just how easy he is...well. A long time ago, now.

Stopping in front of him, Sokka’s hands hesitate for a moment before landing on Zuko's chest and roaming across his pecs to his shoulders. Zuko is still a bit bewildered; not entirely sure what he did to warrant this. Sokka's looking at him like he's precious, something to behold, a prized possession to cherish and hoard and guard and _absolutely ravish_ . This isn't the first time Zuko's felt so exposed in front of Sokka--he is hopelessly, irredeemably in love with the man, and nobody makes him feel wanted the way Sokka does, even if the raw power of this kind of emotion leveled at himself makes a small part of him want to shrink away--but it might be the first time he's gotten this look while _fully clothed._

_"_ So incredible, Z. You're amazing. You look _amazing."_

Zuko is still reeling a bit as Sokka drops to his knees, running his hands gently down the jacket as he goes, tugging gently on the end of his tie, coming to settle on either side of Zuko's hips. Sokka's blue eyes are hooded and warm with lust, still drinking Zuko in. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, then he’s nuzzling a cheek into the soft fabric against Zuko's thigh. Sokka himself is dressed in a simple button down and jeans, a pretty typical outfit for him. Zuko's always loved the way Sokka wears his shirts just this side of too tight, the fabric straining across his shoulders and the collar sitting just so. 

_Fuck,_ Zuko's turned on. Hard not to be, with the love of his life on his knees looking like some kind of sex god. What even is this day?

Sokka smirks up at him while he starts fiddling with the belt. "How did the meeting go?" He's breathing right up against the growing bulge in Zuko's pants as he pulls the belt free, taking a moment to nose against his crotch. 

" _Fuck, Sokka--_ gah--do we have to talk about this _now?_ " Zuko's hands fall to Sokka's head, petting the downy sides of his undercut before pulling the hair tie loose so he can sink his fingers into Sokka's hair. His retort earns him a pinch on the hip.

"Don't sass the man who's about to suck your dick, baby. Surely you can tell me about your day, hmmm?"

Sokka has Zuko's pants around his knees and is palming his cock through his underwear. Zuko can't believe this is his life.

"Meeting was-- _uhh fuck--_ good. It was fine. Great, really-- _mmpfh."_ Sokka's yanked his underwear down and is mouthing over Zuko's erection.

"Did they like your presentation? Tell me about it." 

" _Really?_ Right now?" Zuko's impressed that his irritated tone is only _sort of_ marred by the breathiness of his voice. 

Sokka sits back on his haunches, hand wrapped around the base of Zuko's cock, and raises an eyebrow. "What did I say about _sassing?"_ He strokes Zuko languidly from root to tip, rubbing a thumb over the head to watch Zuko squirm. 

"Jesus fuck Sokka, why are you _like this, ah, fuck!_ The board approved it--" Zuko cuts off with a moan as Sokka swallows him down, sucking at the head before working his way down the shaft, tonguing along the underside. Zuko is gazing down at Sokka, a potent mixture of lovelustneed briefly overwhelming his ability to speak. Sokka meets his eyes and _winks_ as Zuko hits the back of his throat _,_ the fucker. 

Another pinch to the hip.

"God _dammit_ fuck, hah, okay--was good. They had--uhh--questions that I was able to answer. Liked the plan. Want to sup-- _fuck!_ \--support it." 

Sokka pulls off with a pop. "Good boy," he grins before sinking back down in one go. Zuko's knees want to buckle, his hips want to stutter, his eyes need to slam shut as he drowns in sensation. Sokka's got him, like he always does. One hand is holding Zuko's hip in a vise grip, the other roaming up under his coat and shirt, exploring the planes of his abdomen. Zuko whines again and grips Sokka's hair like a lifeline. 

"'M not gonna...last long like this," Zuko gasps out, nearing the edge quicker than expected as Sokka pulls him apart in the way only he can. Zuko is still a bit strung out from the nerves of this morning and the bewilderment of walking in the door expecting a _nap_ and getting a _blow job._ He's not complaining, certainly not, but he's a bit unmoored and lot horny, and still can't believe that this man is _his._

Sokka pulls off with a lascivious grin and strokes Zuko one, two, three times before letting go and palming himself. At one point, Zuko would have been self-conscious about Sokka's seeming composure compared to his own brand of bewildered arousal--but he's learned with time that Sokka _loves_ shit like this, that he absolutely gets off on pleasing and teasing Zuko. It's still a bit novel, even after three years.

"Love you," Zuko murmurs, shyness and lust competing to paint a deeper red hue across his face.

"Love you too, baby, you sap. If I recall, I said you'd fuck me. Bedroom?" Sokka haphazardly yanks Zuko's briefs and pants back up, standing up in one lithe motion to capture Zuko's mouth in his own. They share a heated kiss, all teeth and tongue and lust, before Zuko grabs Sokka's hand and leads him across the apartment into their bedroom.

Sokka has Zuko spun around and pinned against their dresser before he's even started working on his pants again. Sokka's all hands and sharp grins, murmuring into Zuko's ear as he thrusts a thigh between his legs. 

"Can't believe you went out looking like this. Un-fucking-believable. Lucky I wasn't there today. I would have crawled across that fucking board room table. Ask you to bend me over and fuck me senseless. Make them all watch. Show them you're mine and I'm yours. Would you like that, baby? Show the stuffy board who you belong to? Show them who you come home to? Who makes you feel good? Make 'em jealous?"

Zuko’s head falls back with a moan, briefly unable to form words.

"Your goddamn motherfucking _mouth,_ Sokka! Our _sisters_ were in that room today!" Zuko groans, but he doesn't stop the slow grind of his groin against Sokka's thigh. He's too turned on to be more than fleetingly horrified.

Sokka pauses for a moment, considering, thumb and forefinger toying with the lapel of Zuko's jacket. "Okay, okay, maybe a bit too far. They would kill us both on sight. But I stand by my point: you are _irresistible_ in this. I have never appreciated an outfit more, holy _shit._ I would kill to be fucked across that boardroom table when you're wearing this suit. _"_ Sokka's opened the first few buttons of Zuko's shirt and latches himself onto his collarbone, nipping and sucking a bruise into the skin.

"Maybe the kitchen table can be arranged?"

"Christ. I love your ideas. Okay, much as I wish we could keep _this--"_ Sokka gestures to Zuko's jacket and shirt, "on…"

"This entire outfit cost more than a month of rent," Zuko deadpans, the effect somewhat ruined by his kiss-bitten lips and the blush of arousal painted across his cheeks.

"Rich kids," Sokka jokes with an eyeroll. "Strip, then."

"You make twice as much money as I do!"

"Details, details, and we’re not kids anymore, so I don't count as a rich kid. I still don't own $3,000 suits. I shop at _Kohl's_. Get naked."

Zuko grunts his grudging agreement and busies himself with discarding his clothes. He briefly contemplates folding them with care before opting to toss them across the bedroom as Sokka, more efficient as usual, is already leaning up against the headboard, fisting his cock slowly. 

"C'mere, sweetheart," Sokka says, making grabby hands as Zuko crawls up to join him. "Can't believe I get to love you. I'm so lucky."

Zuko hides his face in Sokka's neck, worrying a bruise into the skin while he composes himself. "And you called me a sap? I'm getting whiplash, over here."

"Shut up and take my compliments. You rocked my world walking through the front door today and I'm still reeling. Let me love you. Also, fuck me, please."

Zuko snorts a laugh, marveling that somehow, in all of this, _Sokka_ thinks he's the lucky one. He thinks his boyfriend has it backwards, but saying that would probably make Sokka upset, and then it would be a whole thing. Zuko doesn't want it to be A Whole Thing, and he knows he needs to work on _believing the people who love you._ And he loves Sokka so much he’s pretty sure he could drown in it. So he kisses him deeply and grabs the lube. 

\----

Zuko's three fingers deep, concentrated on Sokka's pleasure, and Sokka is still just mumbling filth. Typical. (Zuko adores it. He's pretty quiet in bed, and Sokka makes up the difference for both of them. It makes Zuko feel safe.)

"Holy shit, you're the _best._ At like, everything. You're obviously _-ohfuck_ \--the best at suits. You like, _right there yes baby dothatagain,"_ Zuko smirks and crooks his fingers, rubbing against Sokka's prostate and kissing the back of the hand that grasps for him, twining their fingers together. He's too focused on being _good,_ making this _great_ to process the compliments Sokka is bestowing upon him. If he had time to think about what's coming out of Sokka's mouth, he'd likely melt into the bed, never to emerge. This is one of many reasons why Sokka usually tops; he loves to see how much of a puddle he can make Zuko. "The absolute best at suits. And your fucking _hands, spirits above,_ you're the best at fucking, too, it's all so _unfair_ , you're _gorgeous_ and _amazing_ and _funny--_ fuck, will you please _fuck me already?_ Come on, baby. I'm ready for you." 

"So impatient. 'S just a suit."

"Lies. It's _you_ in a suit. Get up here."

Zuko's blushing, and turned on, and still feeling a bit off kilter but he's also pretty fucking _happy._ He lines himself up with Sokka's entrance as Sokka traces the lines of his back with his fingers, leaving trails of blazing heat in their wake. Sokka pulls him into a surprisingly gentle kiss, framing Zuko's face with his hands as he slides painstakingly slowly in to the hilt. Sokka hisses out something that sound an awful lot like _fucking finally_ , and grins up at Zuko with a lovedrunk expression. Zuko waits, letting Sokka adjust to the stretch, mouthing along his jaw.

"You're _perfect_ for me, sweetheart. So glad I have you. Amazing. Please move? Feels _good_. Please move."

"Okay," Zuko hums and begins with a gentle pace, rocking in and out with a deliciously slow drag on each thrust. He's seeing stars, lost in sensation and emotion, drinking in Sokka's face and voice and body and love. He's not sure what he did to deserve this man, sometimes doesn't think he _does,_ but in moments like this it's easier to cast those doubts away and just get lost in the two of them.

Sokka's pleased moans and murmurs gradually take on a playfully irritated edge. "Baby. Honey. Sweetheart. Zuko. I love you, so much. I love _this._ But, I do believe I asked you to _rail me until I can't walk tomorrow._ If you can't fuck me across the board room table, I expect a comparable experience at home. _"_

Zuko pauses, blinking, golden eyes meeting blue as the haze of arousal lifts momentarily. He pulls out just in time for the both of them to burst out laughing. 

"For someone who likes to tease as much as you do, you're damn impatient. Fine, jackass, flip over then." Sokka, still chuckling, shoots him a triumphant grin before smacking Zuko's ass and turning over onto his hands and knees. Zuko slides back home, setting a punishing pace, gripping Sokka's hips tight enough to bruise.

" _Fuck yes,_ this is what I wanted, _shit, hnnng, Zukofuck!_ Saw you in that fucking suit, wanted you to _ruin me--_ " Zuko's not going to last long, never does when Sokka goes off like this, rambling and needy and demanding in a different way than he is when he's on top. Adjusting the angle of his thrusts to rub on Sokka's prostate with each pass, Zuko reaches around and grasps Sokka's weeping cock. It's a bit sloppy and uncoordinated, but Sokka doesn't seem to mind; he _wails_ as Zuko picks up the pace. 

" _Fuckyesyesyes Zuko, shit,_ right there baby, you're perfect, keep going pleaseyes _FUCK!"_ Sokka seizes and comes, fisting the sheets and fluttering around Zuko. Zuko manages one, two short, stuttering thrusts before he follows Sokka over the edge. He plasters himself across Sokka's back as they lay panting, basking in the afterglow. 

At some point that might be a few moments or a few hours later, Zuko drags himself up to grab a wash cloth and a couple glasses of water. 

Sokka breaks the spell of silence once they're as clean as they'll get before a shower and comfortably snuggling in bed, tangled up tightly enough that it's hard to tell where one man ends and the other begins.

"So...how long have you been depriving me of you in suits? How betrayed should I feel?"

"Uh. They've been in the back of the closet for. Awhile. Long as I've known you. Not really my favorite outfits."

"Hmm. Family stuff?"

Zuko rolls his eyes with a small smile and pinches Sokka’s nipple. "Sokka. It's me. It's always family stuff."

Sokka cackles and presses a kiss to Zuko's temple. "Fair enough. I love you, baby."

"Love you, too. Did the suit really do it for you?"

Sokka levels him with a disbelieving stare. "Baby, I'm about 99% sure that Haru knew I was ending the call to go do a sex thing. I'm afraid to check my phone. But I think I was going to die if I let you walk past unravished. _Yes,_ the suit did it for me. I've never been one for expensive clothes but...I think I can see the appeal, when you're the one wearing 'em." 

_Huh,_ Zuko thinks, snuggling in deeper. _Maybe the suits can stay._


End file.
